


Dystopia

by bratchet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal, Angst, Brutality, Caretaking, Confrontations, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It'll get better, M/M, Master/Pet, No Romance, Physical Abuse, Protectiveness, Suicide Attempt, Twisted Type of Love, toxic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratchet/pseuds/bratchet
Summary: The war is still going on, but Draco is no longer on Voldemort's side.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. One

“Harry, come here.”

Harry walked towards the blonde with his head low.

“Why were you standing by the front door? Not trying to run away, are you?” Draco questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Harry shook his head.

“Then why were you there, and not in your room?”

“Um,” Harry cleared his throat, “I just wanted to go outside for a minute.”

Draco’s eyes creased, “Well, you can’t, so stop loitering near the door, and go upstairs.”

The brunette frowned, “But I’m sick of staying in my room all day! Why don’t you try acting like a fucktoy, and let me order you around for a day - Maybe then you’ll know how it feels…”

Draco grabbed Harry’s arm, “What’d you just say to me?”

Harry whimpered under the pain, and shook his head, “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

The grip loosened, and Draco stared at the pathetic boy, “Go upstairs.”

Harry nodded, and made his way down the dark hallway, and up the carpeted steps. He stayed in his room, and idly sat on his bed until the little house-elf came and told him that lunch was ready. Draco was already sitting at the dining table when Harry entered. He paid no mind to the brunette, and was already eating the roast beef in front of him.

Harry didn’t bother lifting his knife or fork, and he barely looked at the food. It was his own form of rebelling as he couldn’t really do much else.

Draco finally looked up at the boy, “Eat.”

With his eyes still down, he answered, “I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care. You need to eat.”

Harry shrunk lower into his seat, and ignored Draco’s words. The blonde had zero patience for such behaviour, and walked towards the boy.

“Eat.”

Harry continued to ignore him, causing Draco to take some of the food, and shove it into Harry’s face. The brunette flinched back, and faced away from the other.

Draco squeezed Harry's cheeks, and turned it back towards himself. "Are you acting like this because I didn't let you go out this morning?"

Harry stayed silent. It’s been ages since he’s even stepped outside, and he’s grown to hate this living accommodation.

"Speak."

"Yes," Harry mumbled.

The blonde sighed, “Look, if you really want to go outside, you can go to the market - but  _ only _ to the market - and get some eggs. If you get sidetracked, I will know. If you touch or speak to another, I will know. Do you understand me?”

Harry finally looked up, eyes gleaming with delight, and he nodded.

“Then finish your food, put some bloody clothes on, and come down here before I change my mind.”

The brunette scarfed down his meal, then practically ran to his room, and tried to find any street-wear. When he found an old blue hoodie and some worn-out trousers, he quickly put them on, and made his way back to Draco. He pocketed the galleons that Draco dropped in his hands. A bit much for eggs, but alright. The blonde reminded him of the consequences if he didn’t follow the rules from earlier. He told him to keep the hood on, and to be extremely careful. Then he let the boy walk out the front door. 

-

Harry vaguely remembered the route to the market, but he knew that it was mostly on a straight path, and it shouldn’t take longer than fifteen minutes. As he walked on the mulchy path to the stone path, he anxiously looked around to make sure no predators would suddenly attack him, and use him. It was a scary feeling, but he feared Draco more. He didn’t spot anyone suspicious or anyone who gave him more than a millisecond glance, and relaxed his shoulders a bit. 

When Harry saw that silly little brown awning, he knew he was close to the market. One corner, and he’d be there. One corner, and he’d be safe. But he couldn’t turn that corner. Instead a large hand wrapped around his mouth, and yanked him into a dismal alley. His trousers were immediately pulled down, and he tried to scream, yet every sound came out muffled as the grip tightened around his jaw. 

“Shh,” the man whispered into Harry’s ear.

That only made him more scared. He desperately tried to break free from the grasp, but was pushed deep into the wall by something large and hard. Harry whimpered in pain, and his fists clenched against the wall. Any attempt to push back, and run away would be stopped by a hard slap on his arse. The man brutally pulled Harry’s arms back, causing another excruciating shout into the man’s palm. 

“You’re so pretty…” 

The man violently thrusted harder and harder, not giving a care that anyone could pass by, and see him savagely ramming into the poor boy. After Harry felt the warm liquid shoot into his arse, the man groaned lowly, and removed himself. The brunette was ready for anything worse that could happen, but when he turned, the man was already gone. Harry was left bruised, bleeding, and naked. Tears rolled down his face, and he ran back to the house.

-

Harry banged on the front door, and the house-elf let him in. It didn’t question why the brunette was distressed, and just walked away. 

Draco showed up a minute later, and his eyebrows scrunched, “Where are the eggs?”

“I - I didn’t mean to,” Harry was still crying, and he bit his bottom lip nervously. He had broken the rules, and he knew Draco would find out. 

The blonde approached the boy, and lifted his chin, “What didn’t you mean to do?”

“The - the man… he came up behind me, and -” Harry’s eyes fell, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Draco’s eyes creased with clear anger, and he grabbed Harry’s arm. He squeezed it, ignoring the painful gasp that escaped the brunette, and dragged him all the way up to Harry’s room.

“Take off your clothes.”

Harry shakily removed his shirt, and fumbled with the buttons on his trousers.

“Get on the bed.”

Harry shook his head, “N-no.”

“Get on the fucking bed.”

Harry timidly walked over and laid on his back. He didn’t want to do this. Not again. Please, God no.

“On your stomach.” 

Harry didn’t move.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh, and flipped the boy over. “I told you not to let someone else touch you.” The blonde groaned in disgust, “Now I have to rid you of their trace.” He saw the red hand prints all over Harry’s bottom, and growled in irritation. He gripped Harry’s waist, and lifted. Without a warning, he plunged deep into Harry, causing a loud shout to escape from the latter. 

The brunette flattened his face into the bed covers, and kept the fabric between his mouth. He tried to forget about the pain. He tried to pretend like Draco wasn’t punishing him for disobeying him. He shut his eyes, and thought about literally anything else - How was Ron doing? Are he and Hermione safely hiding? 

Harry squeezed the bed-sheets in harrowing agony. It wasn’t working. He could still feel everything. Draco was still mercilessly ripping through his body. He gripped tightly to his waist, thrusting harder and harder. With each push, Harry felt his insides burn. Draco bent over Harry, and bit his shoulder. He gnawed aggressively until he broke skin. Harry gave another pitiful shout, and he tried to reach for his open wound, but the blonde immediately grabbed his wrists and forced it onto the headboard. When Draco came into Harry’s hole, he violently pulled out, causing a high-pitched whimper to escape from the boy. Draco dropped Harry’s body like a used napkin, and walked out of the room.

Harry was once again left bruised, bleeding, and naked. Except this time, he was in his bedroom, laying on the stained bed, crying in terrible pain. He was cold. He was shivering. But everything hurt so bad that he couldn’t even bend over to reach the blanket. He felt for his shoulder, and winced at the touch. His fingers were marked with a scarlet red. He rolled himself into a fetal position, shakily holding onto his own body. Tears continued to fall onto the pillow, and he closed his eyes, desperately trying to fall asleep to dream about anything other than this. His breath quelled, and he managed to stop himself from shaking. Soon, he fell asleep, and dreamed about a world where he wasn’t here.

-

When the sun rose, Harry heard faint footsteps walking up the stairs. He didn’t think much of it until the door to his room swung open.

“Go downstairs, and eat breakfast,” Draco said, and then left the room.

Harry’s swollen eyes barely opened, and he struggled to sit up. His arse still stung, and he groaned when it made contact with the bed covers. He shakily got off the bed, put on his flimsy clothes, and made his way to the dining room. Every step was pure torture, but he couldn’t complain or else Draco might make it worse.

Harry entered the dining room slowly, and as he sat down, Draco noticed him wince. He also noticed the dried blood residing on Harry’s neck and shoulder. The brunette didn’t touch his food - he couldn’t think about anything else but the pain.

The blonde rolled his eyes, “Are you going to sulk all morning or eat?” 

The brunette hesitantly picked up the fork, and bit into a sausage. He avoided eye contact with Draco throughout the whole meal, and when he finished, he waited for Draco to tell him to go back upstairs.

About ten minutes later, Draco spoke, “Go.”

Harry immediately stood up, and turned to walk to his bedroom.

“I’ll be there soon,” he added.

Harry felt himself stop in his path, but only for a second, and he continued walking. He was scared. He was scared of another excruciating session. When he opened his door, he wrapped himself with the warm blanket, and anxiously waited for the blonde.

The door clicked open, and Harry flinched. The blonde walked in with his wand and a red case, causing Harry to stare in confusion.

Draco met the green eyes, “Turn around Harry.”

Harry’s breathing intensified, and he froze.

“Now.”

Harry reluctantly laid on his stomach, and Draco sat beside him on the bed. He pulled down Harry’s flimsy trousers, and saw the latter visibly tense. He looked at the bruised hand prints all over the brunette’s arse and hips. Draco placed the cold towel over the swollen arsehole, and Harry quickly looked back, but the blonde pushed his head back onto the bed, and then used his wand to spew some sort of ointment that would soothe Harry’s sore spots. He lathered it between his two fingers, and then rubbed it over the puffy area. Harry gasped, and his back arched in pain and relief. Draco withdrew his fingers after applying the gel, and Harry sunk back down. 

Draco placed a band-aid, and another wet towel on the side table. “Clean yourself up, will you?” the blonde’s tone was slightly annoyed. He pulled up the brunette’s trousers, and then left the room without another word.

Harry looked over at the towel, and the small papered strip. He sat back up, and reached for the items. The towel was warm, and he wiped it against the dried blood. When he finished, he grabbed the band-aid, and placed it over the biggest tear. 

For the rest of the day, Harry stayed in his room, and Draco didn’t enter. Harry laid under the soothing covers, and occasionally looked outside the window. There wasn’t much to see besides one extremely large tree that told Harry what season it was. The branches were buried in beautiful pastel purple flowers. It was spring, he thought.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains sensitive topics that deal with suicidal thoughts.

The next few mornings were the same routine. Harry was ordered to eat breakfast. He winced as he sat in his seat. When he finished his food, Draco would tell him to return to his bedroom, and then he’d meet him there. He’d apply the cream, and leave the room without speaking. Although the tension was still suffocating, Harry appreciated that he was being taken care of, and that there was minimal reason for the blonde to hurt him again.

One afternoon, Harry finally left his room for something other than meals. He knocked on the large black door that led to Draco’s study, and was met with a serious face.

“What?”

“I - um,” Harry began nervously. He realized he hadn’t spoken in days, and the crack of his voice was proof of that.

“Spit it out,” Draco said impatiently.

“Can I go into the garden?”

Draco scoffed, “Remember the last time you asked to go outside? You’d think you’d take that as a lesson learned.”

Harry swallowed, “But it’s in the backyard. I wouldn’t even have to leave the grounds.” No response was heard, and he added, “Please? I just want to sit, and enjoy the warm breeze.”

“You’re in no position to request anything at the moment. Go upstairs,” Draco strictly answered.

Harry dropped his eyes lower, and nodded.

-

Harry carefully dropped onto the bed. Here’s to another day of being locked up in this bloody room. He sighed. Draco had a point. Why would Harry even think that going back outside would be a good idea? He should be dreading the thought of it, not desperately wishing for it. Maybe Draco was right. Someone could easily enter the garden. No, that’s impossible, it’s warded everywhere. These thoughts raced through his mind - ugh, he was so bored. He was about ready to break open the bloody window, and jump out of it.

-

A few hours later, Harry was predictably called down for dinner in the dining room. What he didn’t expect was his two friends already sitting there. His eyes widened when he saw Hermione and Ron, and immediately stumbled towards them. His shirt was violently pulled backwards, causing him to halt in his path. 

“Be gentle with him, Malfoy,” Ron threatened through clenched teeth.

Draco smirked, “Or what, Weaselby?”

The red-head narrowed his eyes at the blonde, and it fell back on the brunette. His expression softened in sorrow, but it contained a hint of something else. Hope, perhaps? Harry wasn’t entirely too sure, but he held onto it as he was dragged to his seat.

“Hey, Harry…” Hermione said in a quiet voice.

Draco quickly interrupted, “Don’t talk to her.”

Harry looked up at Draco, and then back to Hermione. He lowered his head, and gave a sad smile in return. Hermione sighed, and then glared at the blonde. Harry wanted to ask them what they were doing here, but he was scared of being punished if he did.

Draco sat down in the seat beside Harry, and scowled, “What brings you two here?” 

Harry saw Hermione and Ron exchange glances, and she began, “We would like to take Harry off your hands.”

“Now why would I let you do that?”

Hermione knew it’d be too easy if Draco simply agreed. “Well, we just thought it’d be better if he stayed with me and Ron.”

Draco deadpanned, “You thought wrong, then.”

“Being close to family and friends during these times is beneficial for someone like Harry,” she calmly added, causing the brunette to slightly grin at her argumentative tone.

“He’s fine here, aren’t you Harry?” The silver eyes stared Harry down, but the latter did not respond. Draco’s face tightened, and he looked back towards the pair.

Ron finally chimed in, “He doesn’t look fine at all, Malfoy. He looks like he’s been bloody starving. And look at his clothes - are you giving him the paper you wipe your arse with?”

“There’s always food prepared for him. It’s not at all my fault if he decides not to eat it,” Draco spat out.

Hermione argued, “Not entirely the point Ron is trying to make. You’re mistreating Harry, and we’ve come here to bring him back home.”

Draco chuckled, “What makes you think you can do that? I own him.”

Hermione felt her jaw tighten, “Harry is not your property, Malfoy. You can’t just  _ own _ him.”

“That is where you are wrong, Granger. The Ministry knows I bought Harry with my own money. They understood the legalities of the document I and they signed, and if someone were to take him from me, I believe they’d be the ones arrested. And despite them knowing how harshly he’d be treated, they also agreed that he’d be safer with me. Haven’t you ever wondered why they asked me to watch over him, and not  _ you _ ?”

Hermione sighed in irritation, and Draco inwardly grinned, knowing that he’d got her.

“Merlin, a question the studious Hermione Granger can’t answer. Let me help you. Harry is to stay with me because this house is guarded by the strongest protective magic. I have the money and utilities to take care of him if anything were to happen. What do you two have?” Draco paused, and sat back smugly. “Oh right, the Weasley family fortune. How’s that shack working out for you two?”

Ron growled, and was about to lunge for the blonde’s throat, but Hermione motioned him to stop. “Malfoy, what can we do in order to take Harry back?” she asked.

“Absolutely nothing. Harry is mine. Harry is under my protection. The only way you two can “take” him back is by presenting the issue to the Ministry. And even then, you’d have to come up with some brilliant argument that could sway their stubborn minds.” Draco smiled sarcastically, “Now that you two understand the situation, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Hermione didn’t argue back, and Harry felt his chest weigh down heavier. Why didn’t she try harder? Why couldn’t they both try harder? From his peripheral, he saw the pair stand up, and make their way to the door. Did that mean he’d have to stay with Draco? Did that mean he’d have to be trapped in fear? He heard the door swing open, and then click shut. He began to panic. It was getting harder to breathe, and he tried to hide his obvious disappointment from Draco.

When the blonde returned to the table, he forcefully pulled Harry’s chin up, and smacked him hard in the jaw. “Couldn’t bloody answer me before, hm?”

“I’m sorry, Draco.”

Draco gripped the black curls, and brutally pulled back so that Harry met his eyes. “Don’t think that they’ll come back for you because they won’t. Everything I told them is true, and it’ll be extremely difficult to get the court to change their minds.” Draco’s voice lowered into a whisper, “Do you understand what that means, Harry?” The silver eyes lazily studied the brunette’s face, “It means that you’ll stay with me forever.” Harry’s head was then pushed back abruptly, and it hit the back of the wooden chair. “Now go upstairs. No dinner for you.”

Harry anxiously walked back into his room, and didn’t bother turning on the lights. He just went under the bed covers, and closed his eyes .

-

The next day, Harry walked around his room, sat in the lounge chair, and pulled open a book that he’d read for the hundredth time. Each turn of the page made the brunette more and more irritated. He shut the book, and walked towards the window. The purple tree mocked Harry by swaying peacefully with the wind, and the blithe birds flew in their v-formation. He rested his forehead on the window, and let out a loud exhale. He didn’t think he’d ever be envious of an animal.

Harry reached for the lock on the window, and hesitated before unlatching it. He was surprised that there was even an option to do that, and was ready for Draco to be alerted by the open window. How - Harry would never know, but the blonde had probably taken every precaution in case Harry tried to escape. The green eyes watched the door, waiting for Draco to come in, and bind him down onto the bed for thinking he could leave. But minutes passed, and the door never opened.

Harry pushed the window outwards, and was hit with an immediate warmth. His hand went through the opening, twiddling and turning as if trying to capture the feeling for later. It had only been a few days since he went out, yet the air felt so different. Maybe he couldn’t enjoy it last time because he was too busy worrying about his safety. Or maybe the weather really did change, and he was unaware of it. If he’d known that this window could even open, he would’ve done this earlier.

Harry turned back towards the door. It was still closed. He stuck his head through the gap, and inhaled the beautiful scent of the flowers just below. His head tilted forward, trying to get a glimpse of the colorful bloom. He relished in the peacefulness of everything, so much that he had completely forgotten that he wasn’t allowed to do this. 

The birds came back into sight, and flew past the large tree. One deviated from the flock, and flew down to the ledge. Harry’s finger carefully reached to pet the delicate being, but it bit at his finger, and flew away. Harry’s eyes followed, and watched it trail behind at the end of the pattern. He pulled back into the room, and dropped his chin. Maybe he could try to fly away. If he just stepped through the window, he could leave too. 

Tears began to well in his eyes, and he looked back at the closed door. He wanted to shut the window, lie back in bed, and just wait for the next day to begin. He wanted to hold onto the hope that Ron and Hermione would come back for him. Come back and save him. 

But his legs were already climbing the ledge, and now he was the only thing between the outside, and his room. Left foot. Right foot. That’s all he needed to do, and then he’d be free. His eyes fell to the bottom, where the grassy fields laid. A tear rolled off his face. He was only on the second floor, but why’d it seem like he was a hundred meters up?

Harry took a deep breath, and jumped.


	3. Three

The house-elf, Kebby, entered Harry’s room to tell him that dinner was prepared. Its eyes quickly scanned the vacant room, and apparated back to Draco to tell him that he wasn’t there. The shatter of glass could be heard when the blonde dropped his champagne, and he immediately ran to the dark room. With the flick his wrist, the candles lit, and he diligently searched the room. He halted when he caught sight of the open window, and panicked thinking someone had come in, and grabbed the brunette. His eyes dropped to the bushes down below, and he quickly made his way into the garden.

Draco touched the lifeless body, “Harry?” He checked for a pulse, a blink, a movement, anything. He lowered his ear over Harry’s lips, and loudly sighed in relief when he heard a very faint, but discernible sound of breathing. His fingers hovered over Harry’s neck, then his chest, and then his legs. He could sense all the broken bones in his body, and was glad that he landed in the bushes, or else he would’ve had more.

There was no possible way for him to bring Harry all the way up to his room without hurting him, but he couldn’t leave him in the bushes for the rest of the week. He told the house-elf to go upstairs, and be prepared to set Harry onto the bed when he went through the window. When Kebby was in the room, Draco inhaled, and carefully levitated the brunette into the air and through the opening. He hastened back to Harry, and sat in the cushioned chair as he made sure the boy was alright.

Draco told Kebby to get the Skele-Gro down in the storeroom, a cup, and an ice pack from the kitchen. When the house-elf returned with the items, Draco quickly waved it away. He brushed the black curls off Harry’s face, and gently laid the ice pack over the swollen areas in his arms and legs. Honestly, he never expected  _ this _ to happen; he didn’t know what to do until the boy could wake up, and drink the dreadful potion. His fingers ran through his own hair, and he sat back in his seat. All he could do now was wait.

-

A few days after the incident, Harry’s eyes slowly fluttered open. He tried to move his arms, and his legs, but they felt numb. His eyes shifted to the only other person sitting in the room, and he didn’t have the strength to speak up. Whatever came out of his mouth was broken and cracked, but somehow managed to grab the other’s attention.

“Harry,” Draco said in a low voice. He grabbed the Skele-gro, and poured it into a cup. 

Harry’s eyes weakly scanned the blonde’s face, and he couldn’t help but feel scared. He tried to escape. He tried to leave. He was going to get punished. His face winced when the slender fingers were brought close to his face, but they only slightly tilted his head forward, and then his lips were met with that familiar awful taste. Harry coughed violently as the burn slid down his throat. 

When he finished, Draco gently rested Harry’s head back into the pillow, “It’ll take a few days to mend all your bones, but you’ll be fine.”

Harry’s head barely moved a centimetre, but he nodded.

The blonde stood up, and walked out of the room. Five minutes later, he came back with a glass of water, and a small sandwich. Harry didn’t even realize he was hungry until his stomach grumbled at the sight of the food. 

“You must be starving,” Draco said signaling the cup and plate. He placed the cup on the table, and pulled the chair closer to the bed. 

Harry nodded again, and Draco ripped a piece from the sandwich. He brought it to Harry’s mouth, and the latter quickly wrapped around it. The brunette chewed slowly, savoring the butter that resided on the bottom side of the bread, and the chewy texture of the ham. When he swallowed, he subconsciously opened his mouth for more, and Draco ripped another piece. With the final piece, Harry parted his lips and devoured the whole thing, partially wetting Draco’s finger. The blonde retracted with a small smirk, and then gave Harry a sip of cool water. 

For the rest of the day, Draco sat by Harry’s bed, and tended to his needs. He gave him a drink of water whenever he asked, well made a light sound. He brought his meals in, and fed it to him slowly. He gave him another cup of Skele-gro right before bed. He even washed his body with a warm towel, and brushed the boy’s teeth. When it was time to sleep, Draco would wait for Harry to fall asleep before he set himself on the comfy lounge chair by the window, and closed his eyes.

-

The next day, Harry woke up to the same routine, but this time he was a little less scared. He spoke up, “D-Draco…” 

The blonde’s head shot up with widened eyes, “Yes?”

“Throat -,” he coughed, “- dry.”

“Kebby,” Draco called out. The little house-elf appeared, and he spoke again, “Get a glass of water.” It nodded, and then reappeared with a cold drink in its hand.

Draco held the water over the pale lips, and Harry leaned forward to gulp the refreshing liquid. When he finished, he rested his head back on the pillow, and stared at the velvet cover hanging on the canopy.

“How do you feel?” 

Harry’s sight shifted to the silver eyes, and he swallowed before speaking, “Um, I think I’m alright? My arms don’t feel numb anymore.”

“Can you try lifting it?” Draco asked, eyeing Harry’s arm.

Harry attempted to raise his arm. Maybe it was moving? He wasn’t really sure, but he knew that it felt weak and brittle. He shook his head, and Draco nodded understandingly.

“Kebby will bring your breakfast, and after, we’ll have a chat - now that you’re finally speaking,” Draco said, shifting in his seat.

Harry blinked at the blonde. He knew what the other wanted to chat about, and he dreaded it. So when his meal arrived, he chewed the slowest he could without making it obvious. But Draco was not stupid, and he gave Harry an eye that expressed his impatience with the clear ruse. Afraid to make the blonde angry, Harry quickly finished his food, and waited for Kebby to take away the dirty plate.

Harry continued to avoid eye contact with Draco, and even tried to fall back asleep to avoid the upcoming conversation. 

Draco cleared his throat, “Harry.”

Harry opened his eyes, and twisted his neck towards Draco.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Harry nervously dropped his eyes. What was he supposed to say? I wanted to get away from you, from this life, from everything. Or should he lie? I lost my balance trying to look at the flowers down below. Harry mentally shook his head, there’s no way Draco would believe that.

“I - um,” he started. Draco nodded for him to continue. “I didn’t want to be here anymore.”

Draco raised his eyebrow, "I get you wanted to go to the garden, but I didn't think you wanted to go that badly.” Harry glared at the poorly-timed joke, and Draco continued, “I don’t know what went through your mind when you decided to heave yourself through the window, but you cannot do that again.

Harry sulked into the covers, “If I was gone, then there wouldn't be this much need to protect me. There wouldn't be a need to waste all these resources or to worry about me at all. You don’t care about me. You said so yourself that it was an agreement between you and the Ministry.”

“Yes, it was an agreement, but it was my decision to keep you here. They could’ve easily sent you over to Weasley and Granger, but I fought to keep you. You’re safer here under protective magic than you are at their little dwelling.”

“But why?”

“Well, for one, Voldemort is still alive no matter how weakened he may be. His death eaters are still roaming about, and they’re actively searching for you. And second, it’s better to be with someone he thinks you hate than to be with your friends and family. You think he wouldn’t search for you there first?” Draco answered.

“You can’t possibly care if I live or die.”

Draco exhaled, “I’d like to be breathing after all this ends, Harry. And apparently you’re still the only one that can defeat the bloody bastard, so you can see why I want to make sure nothing happens to you.”

“Then why’d you tell Hermione and Ron that they’d have zero chance if the Ministry was ready to leave me with them?”

“Did that fall damage your brain? I just told you that it’s safer with me than with them,” Draco said firmly.

Harry lowered his voice, “You didn’t have to be so rude to them, though.”

“If it wasn’t clear already, I’m not friends with them. I don’t like them. I couldn’t care less about them.”

“Yes, but they’re  _ my _ friends, and they’re just trying to make sure I’m alright.”

“If they could see you now,” Draco remarked sarcastically.

Harry dropped his chin, slightly irritated at how careless the blonde was acting about the whole situation.

Draco sighed, “Look, I was only rude to them so that they would leave. If they stayed, there would just be back-and-forth ramblings between me and Granger, and honestly, it would’ve ended with the same results. ”

Harry slanted his lips, "Alright." He bit his inner cheek in deep thought, and then spoke cautiously, “I understand you’re keeping me here to protect me, but can’t you be a bit kinder to me?”

“We’re not exactly friends, Harry.”

“I understand that too, but if you’re going to keep me safe, can you not hit me every other day? And when you feel the urge to, um, do  _ things _ to me, just be gentler? I was in pain for a whole week after that incident.”

“Feeling a bit bold, are we? Just because you’re crippled in this bed, it doesn’t mean I’ll accept every proposal that escapes your lips.”

Harry met the silver eyes, “If you don’t want me to live in fear and anxiety, then -”

Draco interrupted with a hand raise, “I do not have the tolerance for your inane whining, so I will accept your request to be more  _ gentle _ in the future. And also, that day, I did tell you to be careful, but you didn’t listen.”

“It wasn’t really my fault, Draco,” Harry refuted rather aggressively, “Besides, you didn’t have to do that to me at all. I get that sometimes you need to release some of that pent-up energy, but that was just brutal.”

“Honestly, that day, I just got really frustrated and angry. What if that person were some death eater, and they marked you for the Dark Lord to find you in the future? It absolutely boggled my mind when I thought that.”

Harry twisted his face in disbelief, “So your solution was to savagely fuck me to the point where I couldn’t even sit properly for the next several days?”

Draco licked his lips, “You’re right, there were better ways to handle that situation, but I will not apologize.”

“Of course you won’t,” Harry said with an eye-roll.

Draco sighed, and stood up, "I'm going to take a shower. Ring for Kebby if you need anything." 

Harry didn't face the blonde, but nodded. For the rest of the day, he idly laid in bed with nothing to do. Draco would come in-and-out to make sure the brunette was alright. He would ask if Harry felt any different. He would ask him to try to lift his arm again, and Harry would attempt to raise his arm, but failed to do so. And although the situation wasn't ideal, Harry didn't mind whenever Draco came in because it was the only time he talked to anyone, or did anything different from doing nothing. If he had to admit, he looked forward to the basic form of interaction between the two. But ever since he woke up, and began speaking, the blonde never stayed for more than a few minutes of a time. He let out another sigh of boredom, closed his eyes, and hoped that the next time he woke up, he'd be able to move again.


End file.
